The Third Season
by HomeschoolGirl
Summary: A Switched at Birth fanfiction that picks up and continues the third season where it left off: Bay has just made possibly the best decision or worst mistake of her life-and she hasn't anticipated the repercussions. Daphne's chosen her guy-but with her vision for medical school becoming more and more prominent, she wonders if she should have made a choice at all.
1. Chapter 1

Hey! So this is a new direction of fanfic for me. I've been watching _Switched at Birth_ for three years now and I LOVE it. But the things they're making the girls do lately...*shakes head*

Well, first of all, I thought Campbell was fantastic when I first saw him. I really did. But the delivery of the character is wooden at best, and it's just grating on me to the point where I wish Daphne would have gone with Jorge. But I guess we knew the second we saw Campbell who she'd be with, didn't we? :P

Anyway, I decided to continue the third season as I would have written it. :) This is my version of the events that follow last night's episode. I'll probably write it up until the show resumes in June, wrap it up sometime then. And we'll see how my predictions hold up.

Thanks! Reviews are welcome and so, so appreciated!

-Homey :)

**Disclaimer:**Wahh...I don't own _Switched at Birth_. Not even a little bit.

COPYRIGHT HOMESCHOOLGIRL 2014: Work is mine, stealing is not caring.

* * *

Chapter One

—Bay—

* * *

The sunshine filtered through my eyelids, staining them red. I rolled over onto my stomach and felt the grass beneath me, dewy and surprisingly soft against my skin. If I painted this moment—and I probably would, later, when I got home—the canvas would be a swirl of subtle greens, sky blues, dark, passionate purples—and that soft red in the smack-dab center, shaped into two silhouettes. That would be…red and white? Red white and brown, maybe?

I felt a hand on my arm, coursing me awake. I opened my eyes. Emmett grinned down at me, and I smiled back. It was early, judging from the sky around—dawn, maybe? The air was cold and the crickets and birds were just beginning to sing.

_Hi_, I mouthed.

He sat up, and I followed, crossing my arms over my chest. The shirt I wore did little to protect my skin from the cold, but whatever. He was here, and I was here, and we loved each other. I couldn't believe it.

_We should probably head home_, he signed, motioning to the blanket and my keys and wallet, strewn across the ground. I sniffed into the wet air and groaned, thinking of my car.

"Crap," I said aloud. Emmett frowned.

_What?_

_I left my stupid car parked out there. My parents are going to kill me._

_Nah._ He sliced his hand across his throat, shaking his head. _Just mutilate._

I shook my head at him and stood up, grabbing for my things. "I'll see you later?"

He stood up and we began walking down the path. _Not for a while. We have two miles to walk._

"Oh. I forgot."

He reached over to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. My stomach plunged down into my knees. How was it possible that he was looking at me like this again? God, I'd missed it. I'd stayed strong for months and months, but when it came down to it—

I loved him. You couldn't turn that off.

_You've given me serious inspiration for the remainder of my art class_, I said, leaning into him. His arms fell to my waist, and I tucked my head under his chin.

I felt his hands move against my back as he replied, even though I wouldn't be able to see.

"I'll be all A's," I said, pulling away.

He leaned over to press his lips to mine for a brief second. When I pulled away, he was smiling. I felt my own cheeks lift up in response. This was it. This was the happiest I'd ever been.

We resumed walking in silence for the next few minutes. Emmett, who'd forgotten his camera, kept snapping mock-photos with his hands just to make me laugh. Our hands found each other after a while, and it was easy.

"Do you want to stop for breakfast?" I asked aloud, simultaneously repeating the question with my hands. "My stomach's either growling or a monster. Maybe both."

He shook his head. _I need to get home. My mom's going to be a mess._

I bit my lip. "Why? What's wrong?"

_Oh, nothing. She's been on my ass lately, you know? About grades and stuff._

"I'm kind of getting a break for once with my parents, which is really nice. They have their own problems."

_Can we switch?_

I pushed against him. His laugh reached my ears, a deep, scratching sound I didn't have the pleasure of hearing very often. "I've already been switched enough for one lifetime, thank you very much."

We'd reached my car. I climbed into the driver's side, suddenly shy. The enormity of what we'd just done had begun to sink in, and I could hardly look him in the eye.

He tapped my door. I turned my head just enough to see his hands move. They were dark against the background of the sun. _You okay?_

_Paint that, too_, I instructed myself, while forcing a smile. "Yeah. I'm great."

_I'll text you. Okay?_

His smile was beaming. I nodded and turned on my car, looking behind me in order to back out. I didn't look behind me as I started down the road, not even once, although he was sure to be waving, giving me that Emmett smirk that had a way of crumpling all my resolve.

What the hell had I just done?

* * *

I turned on my phone at a stoplight close to home. It lit up with messages—two from Mom and Dad, which wasn't nearly as much as it would have been had I pulled this three months ago. There was a text from Daphne and one from Regina, telling me to call my parents.

The rest were from take.

Guilt the size of a brick settled in the pit of my stomach, and I wasn't hungry anymore. I hovered over his name lit up on the screen and considered chucking my phone out the window.

_Don't be a coward, Bay._

I hit call.

It rang several times, so much so that I thought that maybe—maybe—he wasn't going to pick up. He was mad at me after all, right? Maybe he'd been calling to chew me out for the whole fraternity thing and had decided against it. Maybe we weren't ever going to speak again. The thought made my throat ache, but what could I do? If we were broken up, we were broken up, and it was for good reason. He wasn't the person I'd thought he was. Emmett…was.

"Hello?"

I let out a soft groan. So much for getting off the hook. "Hey. It's me. Bay."

"Yeah. Funny about that—I have this weird thing on my phone that tells me who's calling…"

"Oh, shut up." Against my will, I found myself smiling. "What's up?"

"Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing. You didn't pick up my calls yesterday."

"Oh yeah. My phone was, you know…" I turned into our neighborhood and slowed down substantially, hoping to delay the inevitable scolding I'd probably still get when I arrived home.

"Bay? Earth-to-Bay?"

"Sorry! I'm driving."

"Driving at six in the morning?"

"Oh, yeah." I took my other hand off the wheel, just long enough to cross my fingers. "I had to do this thing for Mrs. Ledarsky...Theresa…anyway, she asked me to. I couldn't say no."

"She's kind of intimidating."

"Kind of? Try so."

"Yeah."

I turned into our driveway, winding down the picturesque path. The trees flashed by, stately oaks and friendly maples. Like the trees in the park with Emmett. God, I'd never be able to look at these trees again without blushing.

"Bay?"

Oh, right. Tank. "Yeah? What's up?"

"Are we okay?"

I laid on the brake. "What do you mean?"

"Are we still…"

"Friends? Yeah, Tank, absolutely." A jolt of relief coursed through me. By some miracle of God, I was going to get to have both Emmett and him. We'd broken up, right? It wasn't like I'd cheated. "I couldn't not be your friend."

"Duh. Nobody can. No, Bay, I meant are we still cool?"

"Cool?"

"Like, you know…" He lowered his voice. "Cool."

Shit. "Um…" I drummed my fingers against the wheel and squeezed my eyes shut. The brick was back, taking residence in my esophagus, now. I think. Or was it trachea? I'd never been good at biology. Or anything relating to school.

"I have something I need to tell you," He pressed on, plainly shaken by my lack of an answer. "So can we meet?"

"I'm kind of…it's going to be busy."

"Anytime. I can do three a.m. During lunch. I'll skip lunch. And that's saying a lot." He laughed nervously. My lower lip quivered. I hated myself. What had I done?

"Tank—"

A door slammed in the distance. Mom rushed out, trailing the edges of her long silk robe on the ground. "Bay! Where have you been?"

"Bay?" Tank was in my ear, cautious. "Can we meet?"

Mom reached the side of my car, pulling open my door. "Get out! You have serious explaining to do."

I stuck my legs out and stood up, trying to both focus on Mom's insistent question and Tank's timid one. I heard the door slam again and Dad came out, followed by Regina, Adrianna, and Daphne.

It was worse than I'd thought.

"Tank, I have to go."

"Wait—Bay. Please say we can meet."

Everyone was staring at me. Dad snapped for me to get off the phone.

"We can meet," I said in a rush, already regretting the words. "Call you later."

I hung up and just stared at them all.

"Where have you been?" Mom asked again, stepping back against Dad.

"Out. Running an errand for my art teacher," I said, deciding to stick with the same story.

"Nobody's seen you since yesterday, though!"

"I came home. I was just tired. I went to bed. You can ask Daphne—" I gestured to my sister, who was rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Her expression never strayed from slightly confused. "I told her."

Everyone turned to look at Daphne.

"What?" She asked, dropping her arms. They swayed at her sides.

I told you to tell them I was going to be gone, I signed, giving her my most subtle beseeching look. "Did you forget?"

"Bay—" Dad stepped forward, shaking his head. "It freezing outside. Come in. Get something to eat, and we'll talk about this later."

"But, Dad—"

"Later."

I slammed the door to my car with a sigh. Mom turned and hurried back in, tying the robe around her waist. I heard Adrianna in the background, telling Regina she was going to go back home.

"Thanks, Mom," Regina replied. I sagged against the car door.

"Hey," Daphne said from behind me, and I startled.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning around. Regina had stopped to stare.

Daphne twisted around to frown at our mom, who rolled her eyes and waved us away, heading in after John and Katherine. I closed my eyes in relief. I was off the hook. For now.

_Where were you?_ Daphne signed, I guessed opting to be quiet.

I considered my options. There weren't many.

_With Emmett_, I relented, deciding she would probably find out anyway.

Daphne eye's widened. "What?"

"Shh!" I pressed my finger to my lips, positioning her to stand directly in front of me.

_Remember Matthew? The whole Mandy thing was a hoax. It was him, pretending to be her, and then he basically went there to beat up Emmett._

_You're joking._

_No. He even filmed it._

"Oh my God." She patted her pockets for her phone. "I have to call him. Is he okay?"

"Yeah. He's fine. I was with him."

Her mouth opened just the tiniest bit. "All night?"

I pointed to her hands, pressing my lips together in a thin line.

_What do you mean you were with him?_ She brought her hands together with a smack. I shook my head.

_I mean I was_ with _him._

But what about Tank?

_Tank and I got in a fight yesterday._

_Bay, that's the exact same thing Emmett did to you._

Protest rose inside me, and I wanted to yell it, how unfair she was being. But I couldn't. For all I knew, Regina, Mom and Dad were listening to us right now. I wouldn't put it past them.

_It's not the same_, I said at last. _Not even close._

_That's cheating._

That was it. I stormed past her, heading in the door. Daphne followed behind at her own slow pace. Inside, the kitchen was warm with the sounds of breakfast being prepared. Dad ignored me as I came in, opting instead to stand behind Mom and whisper sweet, repulsive nothing in her ears. I turned away from them and went for my room, where the promise of a change of clothes (and possibly a shower) enticed me.

After I was showered, I headed past the kitchen, out to my studio. I busied myself picking reds and whites and browns, then got to mixing. It took a few times, but finally I had it.

The color of my eyelids. The color of finally.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey Guys!

Lookie here-two updates two days in a row! And I owe it all to you guys! Comments are seriously THE BEST ENCOURAGEMENT EVER! They keep me wanting to write! ;) So please, please comment. I really appreciate it! Thanks!

-Homey

* * *

Chapter Two

—Daphne—

* * *

Being up early definitely meant baking a batch of cookies to take to Campbell.

I headed into the kitchen after eating Katherine's breakfast, thanking her umpteen times for it. Two years with this family, and I still felt the need to suck up to my actual parents. It really was delicious, though. I'd probably inherited my cooking ability from her.

I cracked eggs into a bowl and added brown sugar, flour, baking powder and all the other necessities. At the last minute, I decided to double everything—Emmett might be able to use some cookies himself. There wasn't anything in the world that had quite the healing power of baked goods. Physical, that once. His ego was probably sky-high right about now.

The thought of him and Bay together made me wrinkle my nose. I wasn't jealous or anything; it wasn't like that. No, I could _probably_ liken it to the feeling of realizing your parents had a love life. It was a knowledge that was okay sitting dormant in the back of your mind, but as soon as it was brought to attention, it made you feel uncomfortable.

Bay was practically my sister, and Emmett was my best friend—or used to be, anyway. We hadn't hung out or had a real conversation in too long. It was good that they were happy. Just so long as they weren't hurting anyone—or shoving it in my face. I was happy to answer then-virginal Bay's heady questions way-back-when, but I wasn't going to be prying for the details. Yeck.

I stuck my finger in the cookie dough batter and tried it. It needed something. I spun to the fridge and rifled through in search of the perfect ingredient to tie the sugar cookies together—and there it was. Lemon!

"Yes!" I cheered, grabbing for it. I sliced it down the center and squeezed the whole thing into the batter, mixing it up. The lights flicked on and off around me, and I glanced up as the door opened. Mom came in, looking more disheveled than I probably did. She'd been up most of the night with John and Katherine, reassuring them that wherever Bay was, she was probably fine.

"Hey, Mom," I said, grabbing a spoon from the silverware drawer. I piled onto it with cookie deliciousness and held it out to her to sample. She took it from me obligingly.

"_Mmmph_," She said around the mouthful of batter. Whether it was muddled clear, I couldn't tell. Her lips had been too difficult to read.

"What?" I asked, leaning closer.

She held a finger up and swallowed. "Perfect!"

"Oh." I relaxed back into my normal position. "You think?"

"Delicious! Some of your best. Am I going to get the baked kind later?"

"Not today." I started scooping it out with a clean spoon, depositing the lumpy batter onto a baking sheet. "These are for Campbell."

I felt pressure on my shoulder and glanced up at her touch, expectant.

"Campbell," She said. "How's that going?"

"Great," I burst out, unable to help myself. I knew I was probably beaming. "He's so great. He's cute, and he's _funny_, and he has this way of always making me feel like I'm special."

"Good, honey. That's great. You deserve it."

"Yeah." I tucked my hair behind my ear and scraped the bowl clean. "Also, half of these are Emmett's."

"Emmett? That's great. Are you going to take them by?"

"Yup. After the clinic. I'll probably be late."

"Should I let Melodie know?"

"Melodie?" I glanced up, frowning. "Why?"

"Because—" Mom seemed to be weighing her options. I saw her should sink as she sighed. "Emmett was gone last night, too. And she probably would like to hear that he's going to be home. According to you, that is."

"Emmet was…Emmett was gone?" I struggled to sound surprised, but it was too late. My Mom had called my bluff. Or Bay's, anyway.

"Yes, Daphne. And so was Bay, oddly enough."

"How did you know that?"

"Melodie texted me when he didn't come home, all worried. She said Travis said he had gone to meet some girl. Which I guess was Bay."

"No, Mom—" My hands flew alongside my words, even though they didn't need to, in my rush to get the story out. "He was _supposed_ to be meeting this girl, Mandy, that he met online. But it was actually this kid Matthew, and Bay found out, and she went there to warm them—"

"And this took all night?"

I dropped my bowl into the sink, wholly discouraged. "No."

"That's what I thought."

She appraised me quietly.

"I'm going to have to speak to Bay about this," She said at last, jaw set. "Before I go to work."

"What? Why? She's going to ask how you found out, and then she'll be mad at _me_—"

"I'll tell her I put the pieces together, okay?"

"But Mom—"

"No buts. I need to know that they used protection, and that he's okay—"

"Of course they did. What are you talking about?"

"Daphne, lower your voice."

"No! This isn't fair. Just leave it alone. She's almost eighteen! She can do whatever she wants."

"Bay won't care. She's come to me about this before."

I snapped my mouth shut. "What do you mean?"

"Honey, that's between her and me."

"I'm your daughter! What are you talking about?"

"So is she."

My throat felt suddenly thick. I swallowed. "Right. Your daughter. Sorry, I forgot."

Mom shook her head. "Daphne—"

"No." I turned away, overwhelmed with thankfulness for my lack of hearing. She couldn't talk to me if I couldn't see her.

I snatched the tray of cookies off the counter and slid it into the oven, letting the door slam shut. I set the timer and counted to three, then let myself look, half anticipating Mom to still be standing there, giving me one of her stubborn looks that I felt like I could maybe have inherited from her, had we even been from the same gene pool.

She was gone.

* * *

The clinic was abuzz with people that afternoon. I shoved my cookies underneath the lip of the reception desk and got to work. Dr. Jackson had assigned me to trail Jorge for the day, which was fine by me. We'd established that we were business-only. Plus, he was fun to work with.

_Hi_, he waved as I walked into the supply room where he was grabbing a stethoscope. _How are you?_

I smiled for the first time all day. I had to admit—it was sweet he'd made an effort to learn so much, just to make things easier for me. It made me feel good. "I'm good. And that's impressive." I pointed to his hands, nodding my head in approval. "You should give classes. I'll be the first to sign up."

_I'm definitely not_— He stopped. "Argh. See. I don't know the sign for better."

I brought my fingers just in front of my lips, palm flat, and then pulled them away, curling my hand into my fist and sticking my thumb up in the air. "Like that."

He tried it. "Like this?"

"Yep. Perfect!"

_I'm definitely not better than you_. He left his finger pointing toward me as the corners of his mouth turned up, eyes crinkling at the edges.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I _have_ had exactly fourteen and a half years of practice. That's kind of an unfair advantage."

He grabbed the stethoscope and tossed the box of surgical gloves at me. "Next you'll have to teach me the sign for advantage. For now, put these on. We're going to go clean a gash and stitch it up. All right?"

"Really?" I clenched the box, excited. "Can I stitch?"

"Definitely not. Unless you're a really good seamstress." I watched his lips move as he laughed. "I've got to give you one thing, Daphne—you've definitely got the enthusiasm of a budding medical student without the bitterness. Although that'll come later, I promise."

"Bitter? Who's bitter?"

"Anybody after two years of nonstop studying." He paused at the door, motioning me to follow him. "Come on before the patient bleeds out."

I ignored his dark attempt at humor. "You just made nobody but _yourself_ sound like a bitter old man."

"Well…" His mouth flattened. "I'm bitter about some things. And not all of them are medical."

I jerked my head down to stare at the floor, boring holes into it with my eyes. Why again had Dr. Jackson feel the need to pair us up?

We survived the next three hours without any awkward moments, thank goodness. I only saw Campbell a couple of times. Finally, when Jorge let me off the hook, I hurried to wash my hands and head into the lobby to see if he was still around.

He was, signing out at the front desk. I stepped behind it and he glanced up. His face broke into one of those breath-snatching smiles. I snatched the bag of cookies, tossing them into his lap.

"Hey, what's this?" He asked, glancing down.

"Not sure if you knew, but cooking is also one of my _many_ and varied talents."

"Wow. Thanks."

"Absolutely. I expect a full report in the morning, of course."

He opened the bag and took one out, holding it up. "How about now?"

"Now is fine."

I watched as he took a bite and nodded. His lips moved, but it was nearly impossible to tell what he was saying. I smiled anyway and waited for him to swallow.

"Actually, Campbell, I missed that."

"Oh. I said—"

Jorge suddenly appeared next to Campbell, holding his hands up. _He said they're the best he's ever had._

I pressed my lips together. "Got it, Jorge. Thanks."

Campbell ignored him. "I said they're the best I've ever had."

"Yes. Thank you."

But the moment was ruined. God.

"What do you say we get out of here?" I asked, scooting to the side as Jorge leaned over to sign himself out. I felt him stiffen beside me, but forged on, hoping to rub it in. "Your place. My place. _A_ place. Whatever place."

Campbell grinned. "I like the sound of that."

"Me, too."

Jorge stood up, bringing his hands down on the desk. I felt the vibrations beneath my forearms and glanced at him, just barely. Our eyes still met.

"Have a nice night," He said slowly, not bothering to sign. I bit the inside of my cheek, watching as he walked away. Campbell rolled his eyes.

"God, that dude's such an ass sometimes."

"No." I screwed my face up in regret. "I was. Why did I do that?"

"You didn't do anything." He considered me a moment, then grinned, beckoning me forward. "Come here."

I did, and he pulled me into his lap, pulling my face toward his until I was almost too close to read his lips. "What do you say we _do_ head someplace?"

I shook my head. "I really should go. I promised a friend I'd drop some cookies off at his house."

"Who, Jorge?"

"Yeah, right," I scoffed, smacking his shoulder. "Campbell!"

"What?" His expression was feigned innocence.

"Hey!" I sat up straighter, suddenly alert. "I do have a few minutes, though. What do you say I teach you a few signs? That way it kind of makes it easier—"

He was already shaking his head. I trailed off.

"Later, I promise," He hurried to add at my crestfallen expression. "But for now…there are other things that could better occupy a few minutes."

"Ah…" I raised my eyebrows, nodding. "I think I get what you mean."

I leaned toward him, pushing all my reservations away. He hadn't meant anything by it.

Probably.


	3. Chapter 3

GUYS! YOU ARE AMAZING!

No, seriously. I woke up this morning to reviews letting me know that someone had taken this story-_The Third Season_-copy and pasted it, and used it as their own. And you guys were fantastic enough to alert me, to report the user, to leave reviews calling him/her out ('cause you never know) and just THANK YOU. I cannot thank you enough! Your support is absolutely amazing and totally appreciated. Seriously, I want to thank each and every one of you, sincerely, for being so kind as to do that. I don't have PMing enabled, so this is my thank you that I would send via that otherwise. ;)

I also just used the words "thank" and "you" a lot. But I mean it! Every time!

As a thank you (there I go again) I wrote this chapter this morning for you. :) Sorry it's been a while since my last update. I hope to keep 'em coming now-the chapters, I mean-and am anticipating the third season. What are you guys most looking forward to?

Reviews are appreciated! Stealing (cough, cough) is not. ;)

Thank you guys! So seriously much!

-Homey :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own nor am I affiliated with _Switched at Birth_ or the people behind it.

Copyright © 2014 by HomeschoolGirl.

Please do not use any part of this or claim it as your own.

* * *

Chapter Three

—Bay—

I didn't see Emmett at all during school—or Melody, actually, which wasn't good—and I sent him a text as soon as I got out. After, of course, considering four or five different versions of it.

_Hey Emmett. You okay_?

That one was too impersonal. I backspaced quickly.

_E, wish I could see you. I_

Argh. No, no, no. Too strong. I wasn't desperate.

_Emmett, text me_.

That was just so—ugh. Blunt. And demanding. What if he didn't like demanding?

Or if he did. I mean, _I_ could be demanding...

I absently ran a hand through my hair, blowing out a wavery breath, and plopped down on one of the steps leading up to the schoolyard. This was too difficult. This shouldn't be that difficult. It was _Emmett_, after all. I knew him. We'd been friends for the past two years. I mean—God.

I was just overthinking this, I decided. Really overthinking it.

_Hey Emmett. Didn't see you in school today. You ok? _

There. I sent it.

"Bay!"

I jerked my head up, hoping for a wild, heart-throbbing moment that it was him. Then my ears registered the voice, and my stomach twisted.

Tank was coming up the concrete steps, waving enthusiastically. A smile broke on his face when he saw me looking, and I hesitated to return it. But I did. Because I had to.

"Hey," he said, breathing a bit heavy, when he came to a stop in front of me.

I raised my head to look at him and shaded my eyes from the sun.

"Oh." He took in my expression, which was probably anything but stellar. "You're still mad."

"No—"

"Bay, look." He sat down beside me, taking up well over half of the remaining step space. A girl coming down huffed in annoyance and sidestepped him. I pretended not to notice.

"Yeah?" I asked after a moment. My foot tapped out a guilty rhythm. I leaned on my knee to steady it.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. You were right."

He was smiling so hopefully. It killed me.

I pictured that red, so beautiful this morning, so lovely as it spilled across my canvas. It had meant so much to me a few hours ago. I'd been so proud.

Now I saw it for what it really was: the color of betrayal. I'd hurt Tank, and he didn't even know it. But worse—I'd done the _exact_ same thing Emmett had to me.

I felt miserable. Absolutely miserable.

"Bay? Are you taking a pledge of silence?"

"...yeah, no. Please no pledges." I rubbed my eyes with my fists. Please no anything.

"Speaking of that—there's something I wanted to tell you."

I lowered my hands. _I'm gay. I've moved on. I've become a Catholic priest and can't date anymore_…

"Mm?" I grunted, when I realized he was waiting for my prompting.

"I depledged."

I gave a startled intake of breath. "Tank…"

"I know." A soft, almost shy grin broke across his face. It was the first time I'd seen something so delicate from him, and it broke my heart. "You were right. I was a total hypocrite. Those guys are nothing but jerks, and there I was, hanging out with them. I told—yeah, I told Marybeth first, actually. I hope you don't mind."

"No." While secretly: _Marybeth. She's going to hate me now, too_.

"So?" He waved his hands in the air, beseeching. "What do you think?"

"I think—that's awesome."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, that's _awesome_, Tank. You did—you did the right thing. I'm, uh, proud of you."

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

And then—oh God—he leaned forward. His hand slipped around to my back. Emmett's hands had been there just last night. Pulling me closer. I complied. I did it. I kissed him.

I couldn't run away from it.

"Tank," I whispered, screwing my face up. His eyes fluttered opened.

"Yeah? You okay? Not a fan of PDA?"

"Um—no. It's not that."

His hand slowly slid down, until it was resting on the concrete. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"What?" His tone was abruptly clipped, more guarded.

"Tank—"

"Just say it, Bay. Did you do something to get me in trouble with Mrs. Ledarsky? Am I fired from the class? Because I still want to play football, even if the guys and I—well—" He broke off. "Did you?"

"What? No, Tank. Of course not."

"Then what?" He looked decidedly less nervous. Just anticipative. "I won't be mad. I promise."

"Yeah you will," I mumbled.

"What?"

"I—" My fists were clenched at my sides. I glanced around. There were people coming from all directions—down the steps to their cars and buses for the ride home—up the steps to go back for forgotten books and homework assignments, to catch up with a friend, rushing to their practices and extracurriculars.

So many comings and goings.

Mostly goings.

"I kissed Emmett."

There was a beat of suffocating silence. Tank swallowed. I stared at the ground, remorse etched across every pane of my face. My ruddy cheeks—the strands of my hair. All the Emmett DNA on me—face, lips, eyes, nose, scalp—was practically glowing. Screaming: I'm here! I touched her! You can't anymore!

"You did."

"Yes."

"Wow."

"Tank—"

He stood up. His expression was impossible to read—a mix between earnest hurt and poorly disguised yearning. Like maybe he'd heard wrong. "Why would you do that, Bay?"

"I went…" The words broke off in my throat. "I mean I tried—"

"Well? Speak."

"I just…I…"

"You just what?"

I glanced up. "I don't _know_, Tank." My voice wavered. "It happened. I'm so sorry. I thought, after our fight, that we were over. And there's been so much just—stuff—going on in my life, and he's seen it all. He's seen the worst parts of me and the best and I just—it's not easy."

"Are you forgetting that this is the _same exact guy_ that cheated on you? That screwed you over?"

"_No_. I'm not. I'll never forget that—"

"Then why the hell would you do that, Bay? _I'm_ the one that's been comforting you. I listened to your sorry ass cry about how nobody treated you right. _I_ treated you right. I treated you the best you've ever been treated."

I shook my head. "Freezing me out is not treating me right. Remember that? You do _stupid, stupid_ stuff all the time. You're not perfect."

"I never _claimed_ to be a saint! What the hell? I'm just saying that you're just—"

"A hypocrite."

"Hell yeah."

"Would you quit making a scene?" I glanced around. A few kids were staring.

"Nobody can hear anyway."

"So? It's still a scene."

"Since when do you care about scenes?" With that, he started down the steps. His every footfall seemed to ride up the pavement and shake me, so hard I felt it in my bones. Why was I still sitting?

I got up and bounded down the stairs after him, two—three at a time. He was almost to his car when I finally caught up, putting my hand on his arm. He forged forward, ignoring me.

"Tank, just please listen. Please."

He unlocked his car and climbed in. I wedged myself in the way of the door before he could close it.

"Tank."

He stared straight ahead, tense. I saw the ruddiness in his face. He was embarrassed. He was hurt.

"I'm so sorry," I said at last, and started to cry. "Please believe me. I never wanted to hurt you."

"I find that a bit hard to believe since you, you know, kissed the guy I was totally cool with you hanging out with. I never even made a deal about it like some guys would because I was like, you know, Bay would never do that to me. She's too loyal. She's too kind."

"Stop."

"She's too caring, she's too bright, she's too beautiful—wow. How did I ever get so lucky?"

"_Stop_." I was a mess. Rivulets of water trickled down my cheeks, bringing my heavy-handed mascara with it. My nose ran. My hair was wild from the wind.

Tank turned his head slightly to look at me. "Get out of the way before you get the door shut on you."

I stepped back. He slammed it. His car roared to life and surged forward with a screech, bearing down on another vehicle creeping its way out of the parking lot. He swerved around it and onto the road, while I watched, trying to breathe and sobbing and hating him for being right.

* * *

Emmett texted me back as I made the slow drive home in my car. I pulled over, hands still shaking from the residual mess I'd made, and opened it with a shaky finger.

_This is Melody. Emmett is grounded. Please don't text. Thx_.

Not exactly what I needed to hear to reaffirm my actions.

I leaned back against the seat with a sigh, willing the sky to open up and unleash something hellish on me: a torrential rain, a stray bolt of lightning, a ground-splitting earthquake—anything that would and could swallow me whole.

Ah, wishes.

I pulled back onto the road after a few more moments of trying _not_ to think, which only actually made me think harder. My house eventually edged into view, and I turned up the sprawling driveway. Mom's car was gone, and so was Dad's. Only Daphne—parked in the guesthouse—seemed to be here.

I found myself pulling that way and climbed out, closing the door. I knew she was mad at me—or at least disappointed—but the girl was always willing to whip up a batch of extra-fudgy homemade brownies. I could at least inhale a whole pan of that, drink a gallon of milk, complain about everything to her—and then go home and wallow.

I walked in the door, looking around for Daphne—but she didn't appear to be anywhere. I turned the corner toward her bedroom and started down the hall.

"Bay?"

I put a hand to my chest and whirled around. Regina stood at the head of the hallway, smiling quizzically at me.

"You scared me!"

"Sorry." She smiled impishly. "What are you doing?"

"Um—looking for Daphne." I peeked through the doorway into her room and found it empty.

Regina twisted her mouth to the side. "Just missed her. She dropped her car off and Campbell drove her over to Emmett's to deliver some cookies."

"Emmett's?" My face was practically an open book.

"Yeah. She was going to bring you, too, but—" Regina stopped, as if just noticing the state I was in. "Honey? Are you okay?" She stepped forward. "Your eyes look swollen."

That's all it took to get me crying again. Regina closed the distance between us and wrapped her arms around me, pulling my head into her shoulder. "Shh, sweet girl. It's okay."

"No it's not." My whole body shook. "It's not okay."

"Of course it is. Or it will be."

"I was going to ask Daphne to make me brownies." I pulled back, wiping the excess tears from my cheeks. "That's why I was here. I needed…food."

"Well—" Regina gave my upper arms a comforting squeeze before turning around. I followed her into the kitchen and watched as she rooted around in the cabinets, emerging victoriously with a deluxe chocolate brownie box. She waved it over her head. "I'm no cook, but brownies from a box taste just as good."

"Better, actually."

I sat at the island, resting my chin on my arms, and followed her with my eyes and she tore open the package, dumping it into a bowl. She was a little generous on the canola oil, and she laughed when I pointed it out.

"This is my secret heartbreak brownie recipe. The more oil, the better."

She slid the batter into the pan and turned around, rooting in the cabinet a moment before emerging with a can of condensed milk. I furrowed my eyebrows as she pulled the lid off and dumped the contents over the whole pan, smoothing it in.

"What's that for?"

"Just trust me here."

A moment later the brownies were being slid into the oven. She wiped her hands on a towel and started cleaning up, depositing wrappers into the trashcan and kitchen utensils into the sink. I got up to help her.

"So," she began, squirting soap on to a dish. "I wash, you dry?"

"Sounds good." I snatched a clean towel from the countertop and readied myself.

A few seconds later, she was handing a stainless steel bowl over. "Daphne—she told me the truth. About what happened last night."

Anger flared up in me. "What? Why would she—"

"I guessed, Bay." She gave me a deadpan look. "It's not too difficult."

"Then why didn't my parents?"

"Because Melody doesn't text them that her son is missing."

I pursed my lips. "Oh."

"Yeah. And when my _daughter_, who has previously been with the son before, _also_ goes missing for the night—well, the pieces practically click themselves together."

"Right."

"Yep." She passed a mug to me. "Were you safe?"

"Were we—" I wrinkled my nose. "Um. Yeah? No guys with pocket knives or anything."

"Bay."

I let out a breath. "Yes. We were."

"Good. I don't want any pregnant teenagers."

"No worries there."

"Well…" She scrubbed at a spoon vigorously. "Damn thing. This stuff is practically baked on."

I finished drying the mug and stretched up on my toes to put it away.

"Did you _plan_ it?"

"No—no. I wouldn't have planned for that."

"Well. I guess that's good. He didn't treat you poorly or anything?"

"No. I was upset because—well, Tank."

"Ah." Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Right. He didn't take it well."

"Not even close."

"I guess that's expected, though."

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't think he'd be jumping for joy. But he turned it around on _me_. He brought up everything I'd ever trusted him with and used it against me."

"Do you blame him?"

"Yeah. Yeah I blame him." I dried the spoon a little too roughly. It slipped between my fingers and clattered against the ground. I breathed out a sigh and stooped to pick it up.

"He probably felt backed into a corner, Bay."

"I know he did."

"And that's probably just his way of responding to being hurt like that."

"It doesn't make it right."

"No. I never said it does."

"I just wish it hadn't gone like that."

She turned the full force of her loving gaze on me. "Do you wish you hadn't done it?"

I thought back to the night before. That complicate color rose in my vision again, and the whole room was bathed it in. It was a complicated color, but I guess—still a good one. "No."

"Then you just have to deal with the consequences."

She handed me the last dish—a plate—just as the brownies rang. I drained the dish water from the sink as Regina pulled the pan out. The condense milk had baked on the top—a syrupy, golden-brown topping. I dipped my finger into it and tasted. Yum.

"So—" Regina drew a knife down the middle of the brownies. "Do you want an extra-huge portion?" She mimed slicing the half into another half. "Or a huge portion?"

"Extra-huge."

"That's funny." She deposited the gigantic heap of brownie onto my plate, and scooped out the rest onto hers. "Me too."

"Are you dealing with your own heartbreak or something?"

She dug into her portion, chewing slowly. But not as if to edge past the question or anything. Just thinking how to answer.

"No. Not a heartbreak. I did something right for myself, too."

"You just have to deal with the consequences, now."

Our eyes met. She smiled.

"Yeah. I guess so."

And in that moment, she wasn't Regina. Or Daphne's Mom. Or my birth Mom.

She was just Mom.


End file.
